


Put Me In, Coach

by Burning_Up_A_Sun



Series: I Know I'm Supposed to Love You [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-13 19:18:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7983148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Up_A_Sun/pseuds/Burning_Up_A_Sun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco <i>is</i> that Quidditch dad. And Coach Harry isn’t having it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Put Me In, Coach

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
>  **Warning(s):** parent fic
> 
>  **Epilogue compliant?** no way :D
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** Thanks to Carpemermaid for the GREAT prompt. It went a tiny bit off kilter, and I hope that’s ok. The title comes from "Centerfield" by John Fogarty.
> 
> Written for [PROMPT 24](http://hd-familyfest.livejournal.com/14832.html?thread=205552#t205552) for [HD_FAMILYFEST](http://hd-familyfest.livejournal.com/14832.html)

"It’s a great day for Quidditch!" Grinning, Draco pulled Coach Harry to him in a tight, one-arm hug. "The sun is shining, the sky is blue, the Quidditch parents haven’t started their overbearing, obnoxious whining—"

Harry peeled each of Draco’s fingers off his shoulder individually and slipped out of Draco’s grip. "There’s no sun, and we’re about one degree away from freezing our bollocks off." Harry blew on his fingers to warm them. "And you _are_ that Quidditch parent."

Draco gasped and clutched his chest, miming shock at Harry’s insinuation. "I’m not—I wouldn’t—"

"Shut it. You are, you would, you have." Harry’s coaching clipboard slipped out of his numb hand and landed upside down on the frozen grass. He cursed under his breath and scrubbed his hands together before picking up the board, the papers dotted with dew.

With a heavy, theatrical sigh, Draco withdrew his wand from inside his cloak. "Potter, is it possible that one day you will remember you are a Wizard?" He swished then flicked and enveloped Harry in warmth

Harry’s genuine and slightly embarrassed smile left Draco speechless. Well, not speechless. He had plenty of things he wanted to say. Like how, when Harry smiled at him like that, where the corners of his eyes crinkled and his nose scrunched up, Draco would do anything for him.

Instead, Draco _hrumpf_ ed and rolled his eyes. He pointed to the soggy notes and then looked over his shoulder, checking that no kids could overhear. Rose was leading them through a series of stretching exercises in the middle of the pitch. "So. Are you going to start Scorpius today?"

Draco realized he’d jammed his fists onto his hips, his elbows jutting out at right angles. Merlin, he looked like Professor McGonagall or worse: his mother. He quickly crossed his arms over his chest, which he hoped looked more assertive and less whiny. But he could tell by the heat on his face that he was blushing.

Frowning, Harry looked up from his clipboard. "Is this how it’s going to be today?"

Draco clenched his lips tight in answer.

Harry pulled his fingers through his hair. "Look, it’s Under-7 Quidditch. All the kids play equal time, Malfoy. And you know Scorpius has trouble staying on his broom…"

"Oh, don’t think we don’t all know you favour Weasley’s kid." Malfoy scowled, shaking his finger at Harry. "Rose Weasley gets more playing time—"

Harry moved closer to Draco. "Rose Weasley is a gifted Seeker, and you know it."

When Draco didn’t respond, Harry moved in closer, his nose skimming Draco’s. "C’mon, Malfoy. I expected this crap from _them_ —" Harry nodded in the direction of the parents on the sidelines. "But I thought _you’d_ understand."

Draco looked away, to defend himself from the frustration and exhaustion in Harry’s eyes. He was trying to protect his son, dammit, and Harry Potter and his fucking eyes—all striking and green and pleading to be understood—weren’t going to stop him from doing that. Weren’t going to distract him today.

Draco turned back toward Harry, bumping their noses in the process.

"Fucking hell," Harry cursed as he massaged the bridge of his nose. He kept his voice low to make sure no one else heard him swear. 

Draco noticed a small stain at the edge of Harry’s lips, and anything else Harry might have said was lost to Draco’s fantasies of the ways he could learn what had left the spot. He’d flick his tongue across it before taking the lip between his--but Scorpius swooped over, hovering the maximum three feet off the ground. Draco watched, pride tinged with sadness as Scorpius wiggled his bottom trying to keep his balance on the broom .

"Papa! Look at me! I’m staying on today!"

And _so what_ if Draco tried the wandless magic he’d been practicing and added a tiny little sticking charm when Scorpius turned toward Coach. It wasn’t _that_ illegal. Besides. Weasley had taught him an extra layer of magic that would allow it to evade the league’s mandatory _Nouarum_ spell, which "cancels all enchantments and magic concealments."

It paid to know an Auror.

Harry smiled as he tightened Scorpius’ chin strap, so his helmet wouldn’t slide down his forehead and jar Scorpius’ eyeglasses. "You ready for the game today?"

"Yes, Coach!" Scorpius nodded so hard that the helmet slid forward and bumped his glasses. Harry smiled and pushed it back into place, planting a kiss on the plastic.

Scorpius grimaced and swiped at his helmet. "Awww, Coach. There’s no kissing in Quidditch."

Harry held up his hands in apology. "Sorry, sorry. You’re right."

Scorpius bumped his fist against Harry’s and flew off to join his teammates, whooping and cheering each other as they took practice shots on the goal.

Harry turned back to Draco. "I promise he’ll play today," Harry said as he walked onto the pitch. He motioned the team to their end of the field, but before he joined them, Harry returned to Draco. "And don’t think I don’t know about the sticking charm."

Draco stood straighter, ready for a fight, but Harry just winked and walked toward the goal posts. Draco felt the tension drain from him as he watched the children gather near Harry. While several remained on their brooms, most knelt on the cold ground in front of their Coach.

"Malfoy, you gonna sit sometime today or you just gonna block everyone’s view?"

Draco laughed as he turned around. Ron stood behind him, opening the three canvas folding chairs he’d brought.

"Leave the man alone, Ronald." Hermione hugged Draco and kissed his cheek.

Draco’s smile grew, remembering what Scorpius had said about kissing. "Rose looks good out there."

With the opening he’d been looking for, Ron launched into an enthusiastic monologue about the team’s chances today, complete with hand gestures and waving arms.

Draco sat in the chair they’d brought for him and dutifully listened to Ron’s theories about probable starters as if the Wiltshire Harpies U-7 team were the Chudley Cannons. Weasley used more words before 9 am than Draco could use all day, but he was an alright bloke.

Eventually, Hermione pressed her hand on Ron’s arm. "Enough. Give Draco a chance to talk," she said, smiling fondly. "Does Scorpius enjoy Quidditch?"

Draco’s shoulders dropped as he thought about her question. He didn’t know how to say that Scorpius loved it, but he was absolutely dreadful. That no matter how much they practiced, Scorpius’ hands were still wooden, without sensitivity for the feel of the Quaffle. He allowed more goals than he stopped. And that he still fell off his broom more frequently than Draco would ever admit. "He’s all right," he finally offered, his voice tinged with resignation.

"He’s young, Draco. The coordination will come." Hermione patted his arm. "And if it doesn’t, that’s no sin. He’s beautiful and kind and smart. Just like his Papa."

Ron snorted and covered it up by coughing and pointing to his cup of hot cocoa when Hermione glared at him.

Draco rolled his eyes. Instead of dignifying Weasley’s reaction, he watched as Harry and the Suffolk Sweeps’ coach handed their line ups to the referee and then walked back to their teams. Harry gathered the kids to him and read off the names of the starting seven. Draco looked down the sideline for Scorpius, ready to give him a thumbs up and silent support. But Scorpius was strapping on his Keeper padding instead of standing on the sideline looking forlorn as he had in the previous games.

Draco couldn’t hear Harry’s words, but he recognized the steady tone from practices: enthusiastic without pressure. He couldn’t have chosen a better coach for Scorpius’ first year. As gifted as Harry had been at Quidditch (and it pained Draco to admit that), his only goal for the team was to have fun.

Scorpius settled himself in front of their goal posts as the referee blew the whistle and tossed the Quaffle into the air to begin the game. The Harpies’ chaser grabbed the ball and took off down the field, passing to their other Chasers. Rose took charge on the field, watching the plays unfold and shouting encouragement to her teammates while looking for the Snitch.

Grinning, Scorpius flew away from his goalposts toward the Harpies parents. "Papa! That’s my friend Haniya with the ball!" Scorpius called, pointing down the field, where Haniya had scored.

Draco gave a thumbs up and then pointed to their goal. Scorpius flew back, smiling and cheering his friend.

Play continued, mostly in the Sweeps end of the pitch. Draco allowed Ron’s running commentary about the team and their players to wash over him; he was too busy willing Scorpius to focus.

Draco gritted his teeth in frustration, struggling not to yell out for Scorpius to pay attention instead of daydreaming. Scorpius hovered in front of the goalposts focusing on anything but the game: blowing his warm breath out into the cold air and watching the smoky clouds dissipate. Pretending to catch a Snitch and celebrating his success, almost defeating the sticking charm in the process.

Against his better judgement, Draco strode to the sideline and yelled out Scorpius’ name. His son waved to him, grinning with joy. _What am I doing?_ Draco thought as he slunk back to his chair. He was a therapist, for Merlin’s sake. He’d seen over and over how debilitating that could be to a child. Yet, he could feel his vein throbbing on the side of his jaw.

"Draco, it’s ok for Scorpius just to have a good time." Hermione laced her fingers with his and squeezed gently.

The wind must have carried Hermione’s voice; Scorpius turned to the sideline, waving. "Hi, Papa!" he called, missing the other team’s interception of the Quaffle.

The parents on both sidelines cheered and yelled as the Harpies tried to regain control and stop the Sweeps from scoring. The players raced down the pitch toward the Harpies’ goal posts and every person was focused on the Quaffle.

Every person.

Except Scorpius, enthralled by a group of daring garden gnomes who’d made their way out of the bushes and were playing at the sideline of the pitch.

Draco jumped out of his canvas chair and yelled through his cupped hands. "Scorp, watch the Quaffle. The Quaffle. Pay. Attention."

Rose took one look at Scorpius, lost in his imagination with the gnomes, and yelled encouragement to her teammates. "Get the Quaffle. Protect the goals! Scorpius! Look. Out."

Scorpius looked up as he heard his name and Draco knew exactly what he’d look like: eyes wide, mouth open, frozen in place. He’d seen that look a hundred times during their backyard practices.

"You can do it, Scorpius." Harry’s voice carried over the crowd and caught Scorpius’ attention. Draco didn’t know if he actually saw Scorpius’ lips trembling or if he was just projecting his own fear.

"Watch the Quaffle, Scorp. You’ve got this." Harry smiled, his voice calm in the middle of the cheering around him.

 _Thank Merlin for him_ , Draco thought. His own stomach twisted as he watched his child worked to remember everything they’d practiced in their yard.

At that moment, Rose turned away from the play and raced toward the Sweeps’ sideline with their Seeker coming up behind her as fast as his broom would allow.

The Sweeps’ parents whooped as their squad scored easily, but Draco watched Rose edge past the other Seeker and grasp the Snitch.

Harry was right. Rosie was a natural leader and a gifted Seeker.

Led by Coach Harry, the Harpies surrounded Rose, hugged and high-fived her.

Draco congratulated Ron and Hermione, happy for them and the team, but lost for the right words to comfort Scorpius in his first start. 

He turned back to the field but couldn’t find Scorpius in the scrum of Harpies celebrating their victory.

"He’s over there," Hermione said, pointing to the other team, who were gathering their equipment and leaving the pitch.

Scorpius tapped the Sweeps’ Seeker on the shoulder. Draco held his breath as he watched it play out, unsure what Scorpius was doing.

"Oh," Hermione said, her voice soft. "I think he’s consoling them for losing." Hermione covered her mouth with her hand. "He’s such a great kid, Draco. To worry about them like that."

Draco bit his lips between his teeth and nodded, not trusting himself to speak. As a player, he’d never thought about the other team unless it was to gloat in front of them; his 6 year old was already a better athlete than he'd ever been. Draco was mortified that he’d thought he son less when he was clearly so much more.

Harry made his way through parents and players toward the sidelines where Draco, Ron, and Hermione stood. "Rosie played another great game. What an eye she has."

Ron puffed out his chest and took credit for her skill and sure hands, but Hermione slapped her hand over his mouth. "If it comes from anyone, it’s Aunt Ginny, and you know it," Hermione reminded Ron.

Ron blushed as he nodded. It was so obviously true that he couldn’t deny it.

"Scorpius played a good game." Harry smiled at Draco as if he knew what Draco would be thinking. "Maybe we can work on his concentration, though."

Draco nodded with a wry smile at Harry’s understatement. "Maybe just a bi—" Draco fell forward against Harry as Scorpius jumped him from behind.

"Papa! Did you see I almost stopped them from scoring that one time?" Scorpius’ face was ruddy from the cold but his smile was brighter than Draco had seen since Scorpius had started playing Quidditch.

Draco swallowed hard; his definition of success was much different than it had been even at the start of the game. "You were awesome."

"And my friend Haniya scored, and Rosie got the Snitch, and my new friend Ian almost caught the Snitch, but Rosie is way better. But don’t tell him I said that…"

To cut off the conversation which he knew could go on without stop, Harry hoisted Scorpius onto his shoulders. "What do we do after a win?"

"Celebrate!" Scorpius cheered and grabbed a handful of Harry’s hair as he tried to keep his balance. "Daddy, can Rosie come with us to celebrate?"

Harry leaned his neck back and looked up at Scorpius, who looked down into his face. "Sure, sport. If Uncle Ron and Auntie Hermione want to."

"Papa, I played good today."

Draco reached up and held Scorpius’ hand, hoping somehow the overwhelming love he felt would flow through. That Scorpius would know how much he and Harry cherished him.

"You absolutely did. You were amazing." Draco realized he finally understood what Hermione meant. It would be fine for Scorpius to play because he just liked the game, and not because he would be the next Viktor Krum or Ginny Weasley.

Rose and Haniya called Scorpius to come play with them. He squirmed until Harry put him back on the ground.

As he was running toward his friends, Scorpius yelled behind him. "Love you, Daddy. Love you, Papa. And you know what else?"

"What?" Harry asked, sliding his arm around Draco’s waist. "What else?"

"I love playing Quidditch!"

**Author's Note:**

> Comment here for on [Livejournal for the author](http://hd-familyfest.livejournal.com/20040.html) to see. Authors & Artists will remain anonymous until reveals - posted after October 1, 2016


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